The whole picture
"I'm back, Aunt May!"
Peter announced himself as he stepped out of his room into the living area. He knew the last 24 hours could have gone better than they did, but he was too happy to be in his own house to dwell on it. As he moved he turned his head to look at the clock on the wall. 1 p.m. Not as bad he initially thought. But still bad enough to get him grounded for a week.
"Sorry for staying out so late! I got caught up by this guy on patrol who had muscles the size of... bowling balls. Yeah. It was crazy." Peter quickened the pace to the pantry as he spewed his poorly rehearsed alibi. He'd created this excuse on the climb up to his window (for once he was grateful he keeps forgetting to lock it). It wasn't perfect but he's gotten away many times before with less solid stories. Maybe he would have focused on it sooner to his arrival if his mind wasn't preoccupied with thoughts of intimidating ex-military men that let you stay in their apartments when you have a panic attack and pass out. Or the fact that said ex-military man is now a new addition to the few contacts on his phone. And did he forget his new teacher?
Not a bad thing to walk out with after your first kidnapping.
That and a good sum of their clothing on your back made for a nice haul. None of it fitted him but it was a step up from walking back to Queens in his birthday suit. He was pooled into too-long-to-be-cuffed jeans and the same golden girls shirt he woke up in.
'Only the best for my student. That includes the privilege to smother the all-mother Bea Arthur's face on your chest'
The only real difference from before was that there was no Spiderman suit underneath. It was weird but walking that last stretch home without it made him feel... naked. He was wearing clothes but it was more about the vulnerability that came with fully being Peter Parker. Not in the way he goes to school and decathlon. Someone who would normally only be the type of person to look for spiderman was looking at him. Wimpy Peter.
At least he didn't have to make the full journey from Manhatten. Mr Deadpool was nice enough to call him a cab. Said it was his trusted confidant. While he was changing he managed to punch his number into Peter's phone too.
When there was no reply from May, Peter swivelled from his pacing in the kitchen. He ceased picking and selecting ingredients for an impromptu snack, closing the cupboards and laying them all down on the side as he rounded his way into the hallway. He poked his head round the corner
"Aunt May?"
He held onto the silence for a few seconds more before deciding she was still asleep. What she did every day was hard work. From chasing up doctors to addressing what patients she could, she didn't have too much energy when she got home. Certainly not enough to be woken up by Peter's shouting. His assessment was confirmed when he listened a little closer and picked up small snores and a slow, steady heartbeat two doors down.
He sighed and went back to making something to eat. It was nice to know Aunt May wasn't worried. But the abstruse hurt Peter felt that she hadn't noticed he was gone at all outweighed it. The cherry on top of the emotional rollercoaster of his Saturday. Crazy to think he was gone for over thirteen hours and his disappearing act wasn't on his only living relative's radar. Not that it had been any different over the last few months.
Peter settled down on the table with his freshly made sandwich. He was about to dig in before the phone in his pocket buzzed.
It was probably Ned checking in with him after last night. He usually did every now and then after he'd gone out as Spiderman. 'A necessary duty that comes with being anyone's guy in the chair' he'd said all those weeks ago. Obviously the number of times this happened dwindled with, well, time. But that was fine. People lose interest when the novelty of someone wears off. He guesses that's what happened with Ned and his Spiderman situation.
To his surprise when he reached into the pocket of Deadpool's borrowed trousers and gazed down onto his screen it wasn't Ned's name that came up.
Master Wade: U all good and groovy gumdrop? [1:07pm]
Peter lowered his bread, meat and condiment Frankenstein back onto the plate. He remembered Deadpool putting his number into Peter's phone. He didn't remember ever giving him his.
Master Wade: I can see you've left me on read [1:07pm]
Master Wade: It's fine I think I know what's going on [1:07pm]
Master Wade: Say nothing if you're passed out in another alleyway and need saving [1:08pm]
Peter coughed on the food still left in his mouth. He had a feeling that this was something that he wasn't going to be living down for a long time. He fumbled with his phone in one hand to bring it up from its position underneath the table and into both hands. He thwacked his arm as he did so quite violently.
Wonder how long it will take for that bruise to show up.
Me: No! I'm fine Mr Deadpool I just got home [1:09pm]
If there was any time to start using honorifics it would be now. After all the rude and disrespectful things he put him through it was the least he could do. Uncle Ben always said to respect elders and it wasn't a habit that Peter planned on breaking today as well. He probably should've taken the same approach with the 'don't follow stranger home' life lesson that was meant to be drilled into his head.
Master Wade: Phew [1:09pm]
Master Wade: Thanks for answering [1:09pm]
Master Wade: I was halfway out the cat flap [1:09pm]
Master Wade: You can never be too careful in this city. Some real crazies out there [1:10pm]
Peter's pretty sure he doesn't have a cat. And yeah, no kidding.
Me: Thanks for your concern but I'm ok now [1:11pm]
Me: I'm really really sorry for wrecking your house by the way Mr Deadpool [1:11pm]
Me: And ur arm [1:12pm]
Peter winced as he typed. The recollection of it was a little too vivid than he would have liked.
Master Wade: Don't stress it petey-pie. It was one of my better introductions [1:13pm]
Well that doesn't sound like a cause for concern.
Master Wade: But let it go (teehee) for now. Go gut shut-eye rug rat. Rest up for sick ass montage training wer gonna do [1:13pm]
MasterWade: I'll call you when wer ready to start [1:13pm]
Master Wade: *gut [1:14pm]
Master Wade: *get [1:14pm]
Peter stopped and re-read the last part of the conversation again. Then twice more to check it was real. He glazed over the fact that it was one in the afternoon and he was being hounded to go to bed in exchange for another crucial discovery that hadn't settled in yet.
He was going to be trained. Sure the circumstances that let the opportunity fall into his lap were a tad dubious, but who hasn't gotten a job or internship through connections. This just happened to be Peter's current connection. And so far it was working just fine.
A stupid grin plastered itself across Peter's face. It made the cut in his cheek scream but it was worth expressing the giddiness he felt. He hadn't been blown off. Disregarded. And it sure as heck was nice to be reached out to first. Someone was going to help him out. No false promises like last time. It was looking like this was really going to follow through.
Me: Yes sir [1:16pm]
-------
"You did what?!"
Peter clamped his hands over Ned's mouth from beside him. For his keeper of practically all his secrets, he wasn't very subtle. He was unfortunately even less quiet. The hush of those immediately surrounding them on nearby tables faded out a few seconds after the outburst and the chattering of the canteen started to creep back into earshot. Peter slowly let down his hand and whipped his head back to Ned.
"Ned! I told you not to freak out. It's cool. I worked it out and everything."
Ned's left brow quirked and his lips pursed in the way they did when he knew Peter was fessing utter bullshit. "You have it under control?" If the disbelief in his voice got any heavier it would have broken the benches with its weight.
"Totally all in my command."
Kinda.
He did just get convinced to be trained by the same guy that snuck him across town into some nowhere off-the-grid building without his consent.
"You call being kidnapped in the dead of night, in an alleyway, by a stranger 'under control'?" Ned's voice was hushed but had somehow morphed into a harsh whisper. He leaned further forward as they talked, creating a make-shift shelter for their chat. It was a good thing no one in school wanted to be seen dead with them, otherwise, all of Peter's metaphorical cats would be out of their metaphorical bags.
"I do. Because in reality. It is nowhere near as bad as it initially sounds." Peter began to stoop slightly over his meal, picking at it. He couldn't bring himself to eat anything. Whether that was his cheek or what he thinks was meant to be chicken pot pie, he couldn't tell you.
"Initially?! C'mon dude, I don't think this is one of those things that starts to sound better the more you hear it. I'm pretty sure it's, like, the opposite."
"Well, it wasn't ideal to begin with. But then things got better after we talked. He was just looking out for me"
"Then what the heck happened to your face?"
Turns out his healing wasn't as good as he thought it was. Or maybe it just wasn't as good as it used to be. The covering had been taken off Saturday and replaced with a clean bandage. It didn't take long for those to bleed through so it had been routinely changed for the past two days. It was weird. He definitely should have recovered by now. A positive to take away was the fact that he wasn't bleeding constantly anymore. The only reason May didn't know about it was because he pretended to be sleeping when she left for her 12-hour shift at 6 this morning.
Luckily the bruises on his legs were well browning and the mosaic scattering his shins would be gone by the end of the week.
He'd just have to wear tracksuit bottoms, despite being inside this week with the heating cranked up to the max to prevent any more parent's complaining about the school not preventing colds. It was odd that the head faculty hadn't realized that no matter what they did the complaints wouldn't cease. Some of the rich kids at this school always had a bone to pick. More often than not that was a trait transferred directly from the parents.
Speaking of which, if he was lucky he wouldn't get too much attention from those types this week. Even May wouldn't miss the injuries then. The goal right now was to keep them minimal.
When Peter's train of thought was brought full circle back to Ned's question the events that led to the injury were resurrected. It was embarrassing but this was his best friend. Nothings meant to be more comforting than the truth.
"It was my fault. I tripped and slashed my cheek open with a coat rack on my way out."
Ned's face fell and he dropped the Lunchable he was holding to the table. He stared long and hard at Peter before finally talking.
"Oh my gosh, you're being groomed."
The girl walking by them heard enough for her eyes to go wide and her head to snap to the direction she heard it from. And that was enough to make both boys stop and stare at her in turn.
The downside to no one wanting to be near you is that when someone did notice something there was no slyly passing it off onto someone else. Peter recognized her though. Susan something from his U.S history class.
Not that it mattered since it only took several seconds of awkward eye contact for her to turn tail and scamper off to her table. Peter blocked out the consequent whispers between her and her cohort that followed.
"I am not being groomed, Ned. He just wants to help me out."
"I still can't believe you said yes. This goes against every stranger danger rule there is."
"What else am I meant to do?"
"Well... you know..." Ned turned his head slightly so Peter could only see the corner of his eyes as if trying to send some telepathic signal. Peter thought it looked pretty ridiculous. That just made him feel even more stupid when it worked.
Peter sucked in his breath and closed his eyes for a second too long for it to be anything other than internalizing how dumb his friend's ideas could be sometimes.
"I'm not calling Mr Stark over something as trivial as this. He wouldn't concern himself with something so... ground level!" Peter chose to hide the knowledge that he knew no one would pick up if he did call. "Your suggestion for all of my problems has to stop being 'call Mr Stark'"
"You've literally have one of the world's greatest heros on speed dial"
"I have the world's greatest hero's head of security on speed dial." Jeez, that was a mouthful. "Mr Stark never contacts me directly."
"I know this isn't the right time but that sounded really cool. Like your a super spy or something and he's the faceless boss of the organisation we never see."
"That's literally just Perry's side plot from Phineas and Ferb. I think my vigilante duties might be a notch or two higher than that."
Peter sighed, forcing the air out of his nostrils and hooding his eyes slightly. "I get you're worried but seriously, it's all good. Great even. And it's all going to work out. And if it doesn't, it's not like I can't get myself out of the messes I make"
Between his breaths, the lunch bell rang loud and shrill in the background of their conversation. The mob around them began to trail out through the exits to overrun the halls in an attempt to get to their lockers and lessons on time.
"No that's exactly what you can't do. Like, physically can't. I've never seen it happen."
Ouch. So much for believing in each other Ned. Low blow.
"Look Ned just have a little faith in me, man. I know what I'm doing." Peter hoisted his tray from the table and began to walk away. "I'll text you later."
The rest of the afternoon dragged on slowly. It melted into one big haze and left Peter feeling even more worn down after his conversation with Ned. The classes blended into each other and leaving Peter with a thick fog over his mind. Maybe he didn't make the right choice looking back at it. Maybe he should've taken the situation's face value more seriously. Sure, he was saved, but the way that it was carried out wasn't... superb.
His trance was broken by a familiar, consistent buzzing in his pocket. It wasn't like Ned to text him in lessons. And he doubted the decathlon group chat would be what's setting his phone crazy right now.
Maybe it was Happy? He doubted that even more, but the idea of it had him unconsciously buzzing with hope.
He yanked his phone out of his pocket and placed it strategically underneath his desk, careful to keep it out of sight while still a fair distance away from the gum clinging to the bottom of the work surface.
To both Peter's surprise (and disappointment), a new name popped up.
Dopinder: Hello fellow apprentice! We met a few days ago when I drove you home [2:35pm]
Dopinder: I've been instructed by Mr Pool to escort you to your quote-unquote trial period [2:35pm]
Dopinder: Sounds very exhilarating!!! [2:36pm]
Dopinder: I'll be outside at 3.45 prompt! It'll be the yellow taxi by the front of the school [2:36pm]
Me: Trail period? [2:37pm]
Dopinder: I am afraid I have nothing to offer you for that question. I have been requested to keep utmost confidentiality. [2:38pm]
Dopinder: I can, however, ensure you that Mr Pool will not allow you any harm!" [2:38pm]
Peter's brow creased and the corner of his eyes twisted in confusion. Okay, now he's seeing Ned's point. None of this seemed very educational yet, and it generally ended with him being placed into a car with a stranger going to an undisclosed location. Always with the promise of not being harmed, which is ironic as so far all he's gotten is harmed.
Dopinder: I trust you'll be there [2:39pm]
Me: Sure will Mr Dopinder! Thanks a bunch for driving me home before by the way [2:41pm]
Dopinder: No problem! Any time for a friend of my best benefactor [2:41pm]
Dopinder: And I am happy for you to just call me Dopinder [2:42pm]
There were a lot of red flags going on. A lot. But that didn't mean that everything was going downhill. If he didn't give this a chance he wouldn't have anything else going for him. It was either this or back to Youtube.
Peter shoved away his phone. The class hauled on, students either desperately scribbling notes with nightmare-like intensity or giving up and choosing to exclusively listen instead. No one was any wiser that Peter's behaviour grew distracted and inattentive after the second half of the lesson. More so than usual. Everyone except the person who bore into the back of his head as they watched him put away his phone with haste and grow more absorbed in his daydreams with sceptical bronze eyes.
-------
3:45 rolled around quicker than Peter expected it to. When you could do so much in such a short span of time, minutes seemed all that much longer.
He'd been waiting outside since class ended ten minutes ago. He wasn't in any particular rush but his nerves were getting more active with each second. He was mainly feeling that as well as... excitement? This training deal could be a new start for him. Open more opportunities to help people. Make him less of a laughing stock. Heck, even a second chance with Mr Stark and Happy! He may have been getting away from himself realistically, but once the ball started rolling it didn't stop.
That was until his thoughts were prematurely interrupted by a familiar dead-pan voice.
"Hey Loser"